


take the world and redefine it

by caffeinewentz



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Unbeta'd, if u have any advice for improving this mess hmu, look at lyle, or not because i'm impatient, posting his mediocre writing Again, slow burn probably, sorry anne, sorry charity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-28 06:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13266141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinewentz/pseuds/caffeinewentz
Summary: when phillip carlyle first met phineas taylor barnum, he was… impressed. skeptical. there was something about the man that simultaneously inspired disbelief and excitement. and he was beautiful.or, the story of an aristocrat-turned-ringleader and everything he never thought he'd do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> some notes:  
> a) the running title for this was, "in which lyle is gay and appreciates ringleaders"  
> b) just pretend P.T never married sorry for my gay garbage ships guys  
> c) this is the first story i've ever written that i don't absolutely hate, but i know it could be improved. if you have criticisms, please be nice about it!

(got your head hung low)

(your skies are a shade of grey)

 

When Phillip Carlyle first met Phineas Taylor Barnum, he was… impressed. Skeptical. There was something about the man that simultaneously inspired disbelief and excitement. And he was beautiful. It might’ve been strange to note the beauty of another man, but it was impossible not to notice - his eyes sparkled with excitement every time he spoke.

It was the first time they met that Phillip reconsidered the life he lived.

Shortly after - it could hardly be considered the second time they met, it was so soon after the first - his re-examination was halted suddenly. Barnum had invited him for drinks; he was interested, maybe even slightly… thrilled, by the proposal. What followed was entirely unexpected.

They had been sitting only briefly when Barnum spoke. “Join my show.” Phillip was startled. Moreover, he was wildly unconvinced of the merits of this offer. Yes, the man was interesting, and he was rather taken, but Phillip was not irrational, nor terribly impulsive. The decision could alter the course of his life - a risk he was unsure of his willingness to take. “I know it’s crazy, but live a little crazy - you can remain a simple playwright, the same thing you have always been, or you can take risks,” here, he smirked, “and there may be rewards.”

Barnum had yet to provide any substantial backing for his offer - he promised reward without specifying what, and overall… his proposal wasn’t terribly compelling considering his reputation for marketing even the strangest things.

“I’m afraid I must decline,” Phillip murmured, unsatisfied with the decision he had come to despite how absurd it would be to accept Barnum’s offer. “I’ve been successful writing plays thus far, and though I admire you and your show, I’m content with the security of my current occupation.” Sincerely - did the man think he could take such an offer seriously, especially coming from the background he did?

Barnum only smiled wider, looking as though he had expected, and appreciated the value of the challenge Phillip presented. “Is that how you would choose to live? Tired and miserable, drinking alone and attending sedate, aristocratic parties?”

“I’d say I’d consider it, but I’d be the talk of the town - I’d disgrace my family, and I may well be disowned.” 

“Now do you really think that lowly of me? You could breathe easily with my show, make people laugh instead of boring them with long-winded tragedies.” Barnum looked determined to win Phillip over; the reason for which he couldn’t deduce. What did he have that Barnum so desperately wanted for his circus? “Just let me offer you the freedom to live a little.”

This brought Philip Carlyle to the biggest junction he had ever faced in his life. He could very nearly see a road he’d been walking for his entire existence; steady and straightforward for the most part, except now he approached a large fork. An ultimatum, of sorts, that could change his life drastically and permanently. He couldn’t determine whether or not it would be for the better or worse. He was slightly dizzy now, with the amount he had drunk, but he did his best to keep his head clear. Could he do such a thing? Would there even be a possibility of profit? He lived in comfort now, his plays being popular among the upper class; he'd lose his standing with the aristocracy if he joined the circus. He was still, somehow, interested in this man and his show. Perhaps it was the liquor thinking for him.

“Well I’m intrigued, but to go would cost me much of what I’ve worked to achieve throughout my life. What percentage of the show would I be making?”

“Fair enough, I wouldn’t expect you to go without pay. I’m willing to settle on seven percent, does that sound like a reasonable agreement?” He extended his hand, as if to shake on the deal.

Phillip scoffed. Fascinating as the man was, he was selling this terribly. “I’m not an idiot, I know you make enough to pay better than that - I won’t be misled. Eighteen?”

“Why not just go ahead and ask for half the sales?”

“Fifteen.”

“I’d do eight.”

Phillip once again questioned himself as to why he was even trying to accept this offer. “Twelve.”

“Maybe nine.”

“Is ten fair enough?” Phillip said this self-assuredly - if Barnum denied this final proposition, he could return to his life with this behind him, never to deal with this strange man and his circus.

He extended his hand again.

Let it be known that Phillip was not _afraid_. He met the offer with some trepidation, but for the most part remained confident. In his mind's eye, again, he saw the path that made up his life. They shook hands, and Phillip could swear he felt the monotonous trail he'd been walking fall behind him.

Barnum smiled once more, and he suddenly felt more free than he had in years.

 

(the world becomes a fantasy)

(and you’re more than you could ever be)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update every day, but that's a tentative schedule! Please forgive any inaccuracies, I've only seen the movie once thus far. I know I fudged Phillip's meeting of the cast - I couldn't remember exactly how it went so I just sorta,,, made it up. And, as always, feel free to leave constructive criticism in the comments.
> 
> me @ dark me: this is gross mischaracterization and you know it  
> dark me: don't rewrite it coward
> 
> (comments and kudos make my day!)

(we can’t go back again)

(to the world that we were living in)

 

That night Phillip dreamed for the first time in years. He’d never slept well, but maybe that was his own fault - staying up far too late to write, because nighttime was always better for making things. He slept soundly though, now, and in his repose he saw coloured lights and people swinging from great heights. He was so sure they would fall - they looked fragile so far up in the air, suspended by nothing but lengths of rope. They didn’t, though. He saw the ringleader, directing everything, but his face was hidden from sight.

 

He woke with a start. The sun shined down on him through a high window; it was warm, as if it was midday. Upon checking the time he realised it was only nine o’clock, but still later than he would normally rise.

 

He dressed, performed his normal morning routine - bathing and eating, etcetera - and left home. He ambled about, a bit aimlessly, thinking. What was to become of his life now? How would he be influenced by his new place of employ, or would he be? He most certainly would, he knew; a place so strange - and wonderful - as Barnum’s circus, it had to change the people in and around it so often.

 

What could he do for the circus? Why was he wanted? He had, for so long, occupied the seat of a patrician; he wrote plays that made him successful, though he could not delude himself into believing that was the sole reason for his comfortable life. His parents were wealthy. He had never experienced hardship. How could he contribute to the performance, or even relate to the performers, most of which had struggled their whole lives?

 

His internal monologue once again wandered to the ringleader - Barnum, who was utterly single-minded in his resolve that Phillip would join the show. Honestly, at this point, he was unsure of whether his agreement was truly thought through; unfortunately, he was here, and this was a situation he had created for himself. He was a part of the spectacle.

 

He was shaken from his reverie by a cacophony - as luck would have it, at that moment, he was passing by the circus. From the sound of it, a show was currently taking place. Phillip entered the theatre.

 

Unsure of what to do, or where to go, he approached the ticket box. The booking clerk waved him backstage, just as trapeze artists began their act. He made his way out of public view, where he was met by an exuberant Barnum, dressed in a bright red and gold ensemble.

 

“Carlyle! I didn’t expect you until later, the show is still on,” he was composed even in his obvious excitement, an art by which Phillip was impressed. Despite his reputation as a fraud and, in some cases, and imbecile, or an oddity, he was remarkably levelheaded. A good thing, considering Phillip supposed he now worked for him.

 

“I assumed I’d stop by - learn my duties, meet the cast…” He stopped himself from saying ‘freaks’. He would be around these people often, and although they were strange, he had no desire offend them; they had been persecuted enough.

 

Once again, Phillip noted the gleam in his eyes as he spoke. “You’ll be… my assistant. Another ringleader, less prominent, but important nonetheless. Help arrange the acts, and fill in as spokesperson when I can’t.”

 

His eyes widened unnoticeably. “So, I’ll be participating in the show?”

 

“Of course! Did you expect anything less? Come here, you can meet everyone.” He turned to walk further backstage, to an area where the members of the show were gathered. Phillip began mingling with the cast, learning their names and acts - Lettie, the bearded lady: she was kind and guarded. She was funny, but he got the sense that she was still vaguely afraid of being cast out, even now. Jo-Jo, the dog-faced boy, was near silent, but when he spoke, he demonstrated knowledge of several different languages. General Tom Thumb - Charles - was foul-mouthed but amiable.

 

A pair who stood apart from the throng of performers drew his attention. They were dark-skinned, although the woman was lighter than the man whom he assumed was her trapeze partner - he had seen them flying through the air as he entered the theatre. He drew near to them, hoping to appear cordial.

 

“I am Phillip Carlyle. And you?”

 

“Anne Wheeler. And this is W.D, my brother. What’s your act?” She asked this with genuine curiosity, but also as a challenge. It was like she could see right through him, down to his privileged core. She didn’t believe he was one of them.

 

He tripped over her statement, losing his poise momentarily. “I… don’t have one.”

 

She laughed, but not callously. “Everyone has an act.”

 

With that, she and her brother glided out of sight and into the crowd, leaving him mystified.

 

* * *

 

The show was long over and the sun had long set; Phillip found himself sweeping the floor free of peanut shells. He was still pondering what he had gotten himself into. He remembered the trapeze artist with the cotton-candy hair - Anne Wheeler - who had laughed at him so flippantly, and all of the other entertainers… he believed he might actually enjoy it here, despite the other effects it may have on his life. He dared not guess how his parents would react, should they know.

 

He was nearly done when he heard the door opened and shut behind him. Upon turning to see who had arrived, he caught sight of Barnum. He had changed out of his costume, and looked surprised to see Phillip still there.

 

"I'm sorry I'm not gone yet," Phillip smiled sheepishly - he still wasn't sure how to behave around the man. He had acted haughty when negotiating for pay and casually drinking with him, but acting so cavalier with one's employer seemed like a bad idea. He did hope, though, that they could become closer. It felt peculiar to harbour hopes like that, but Phillip still found himself fond of the man, despite the fact that they were still really only acquaintances.

 

“It was a mess, so I presumed to sweep before I left - sorry if it’s awful, I’ve never swept before.” He cringed internally. Now he just sounded like a spoiled brat who had never worked. He, on one hand, was, but he didn’t want to be seen that way.

 

Barnum smiled, and again, Phillip felt that feeling of freedom that sent his heart into his throat. The approval was gratifying, but he was unsure as to why it excited him so much - he’d been smiled at by hundreds of people: friends of his parents who enjoyed his work, young women who thought he was handsome, even friendly strangers on the street. He attributed it to his desire to please him as an overseer and potential companion.

 

“Thank you. I appreciate your desire to contribute, even if…” He  trailed off, surveying the floor, still speckled with crumbs but for the most part clean. “Even if you don’t have much experience cleaning.”

 

Phillip felt his face redden slightly, embarrassed. “I can do it again-”

 

“No, no - it’s late, you shouldn’t. Come, I’ll walk you out. I just came to lock the building.”

 

He propped the broom against the wall, and made his way out of the ring. Barnum escorted him to the door, and they stopped just outside. “So, your thoughts on the show?”

 

He hadn’t expected amicable conversation - he balked momentarily. Not having forgotten his long years learning formal social interaction, though, he responded as quickly as he could think. “I- I enjoyed what I saw. I wasn’t able to watch the entire program. The cast was lovely, those whom I met. Lettie and Anne, in particular, were interesting.”

 

“There’s a matinee tomorrow - you should come, see the show. Afterwards, we’re holding rehearsals. We can discuss your participation then.” Barnum seemed enthusiastic about Phillip’s attendance. “I really think you may add something to the performance. And with your cooperation, we might appeal to some of the more… plutocratic attendants. You could appeal to those who think we’re crude.”

 

“I’m grateful that you have such faith in my influence, though,” he said, chuckling, “I’m not sure how many strings I can pull. I’ll do my level best.”

 

“And for that I am indebted,” Barnum beamed. “Goodnight, Mr. Carlyle. I trust I’ll see you at the show tomorrow?”

 

“Of course.”

 

And with that, they parted ways.

 

* * *

 

That night, as Phillip lay down to sleep, he was once more pondering the circus and it’s inhabitants. He would dream of it again tonight. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why it occupied his thoughts so thoroughly. It had only been a day since even the _idea_ of consorting with the circus and the extraordinarily colourful characters that populated it entered his mind. Still, he had dwelled upon the idea nigh constantly since it’s conception.

 

He shut his eyes.

 

Almost immediately, though he wasn’t quite asleep, he began dreaming. He saw the trapeze artists - Anne and W.D, moving like they were confident in their ability to fly should the rope let them fall. Lettie sang, the dog-boy acted feral (though Phillip knew him to be intelligent), Charles flew across the ring on his horse, in a general’s garb. It was bright. It was loud. It was dazzling.

 

At the forefront of it all, P.T Barnum.

 

His face was no longer hidden - he could see him grinning, shouting to the crowd. He looked comfortable in the spotlight, even elated; he was a born showman, there was no doubt of that. Illuminated by all of the coloured lights, Phillip was once again reminded of his unmistakable beauty.

 

Had he been awake, he may have been distressed by such persistent infatuation with another man, but he was not. He fell from a half-sleep to complete dormancy thinking of Barnum’s laughter.

 

(you’re asleep inside)

(but you can shake awake)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a bitch to write but here it is! enjoy the gay.
> 
> (comments and kudos make my day!)

(and buried in your bones there's an ache that you can't ignore)

(taking your breath, stealing your mind)

 

Phillip arrived at the theatre just before the show started the next day. People were clamoring about inside - it was difficult even to hear his own thoughts. The first act was the bearded lady; Lettie Lutz, if he recalled her name correctly. She sang. Her voice was gorgeous, much stronger than he had been led to believe when they spoke last. The albino twins joined her on stage, dancing together and moving so fluidly that they could have been one being. It was as much of a spectacle as he had dreamed it was.

 

From his seat near the front, the view was incredible. The aerialists began their act soon after Lettie finished singing, and Anne and W.D were just as stunning as they had been when he glimpsed their routine yesterday. In the air, they seemed like completely different people; Anne was fearless, moving as if she was lighter than a feather, and W.D appeared less closed off - he was in his element, with nothing around him but the open air and his sister. At one point, Anne hooked her legs around a metal hoop and just  _ let go,  _  swinging across the ring so quickly Phillip could hardly track her with his eyes. She dismounted with a series of complex flips, and he was once again uncertain on what he could bring to this already sensational performance.

 

In the pause between the acrobats and the next act, Phillip caught sight of Barnum, once again dressed in his bright red and gold livery. He smiled and laughed to the audience, and then prepared to announce the next stunt.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen! If I may have your attention - it is my pleasure to introduce General Tom Thumb. This incredible young man never grew past 75 centimetres tall, and he is here today to entertain you." Barnum stepped aside, and Charles burst forth on a horse several times as large as he was. He rode around the ring, allowing all in attendance to get a good look at him, before dismounting. He cracked a few jokes, with the tall Russian man acting as a foil for his comedy. He was funny - his act was good, and he was what the people came to see. A human oddity. Phillip cringed at the thought, remembering how fearful some of the performers seemed yesterday. People were only tolerant of differences when they could gawk at them. But, he supposed, that was the business of running a circus.

 

The show continued to impress Phillip through to it's conclusion. The crowd was filing out when Barnum, having spotted him in the crowd near the end, beckoned him backstage.

 

“That was incredible,” he murmured, still replaying the events of the show in his mind. It was so well-organised, despite it’s chaos. The acts were tailor-made to appeal to the masses, and they _did_. Everyone who had attended left satisfied and grinning.

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Barnum smiled, obviously enjoying how impressed Phillip was with his production. “Come, now, I’ll show you what you’ll be doing while everyone else practises their routine.”

 

Phillip followed him to the ring. After having seen all the seats filled with delighted spectators, it seemed less lively than it had before. It, in and of itself, however, was no less spectacular.

 

“See, you’ll help direct the show - moderating acts and announcing them, and interacting with the onlookers. Try and stand there.” He pointed.

 

Phillip moved to where he believed he was being directed to go, to no avail. “No, right here,” Barnum said, readjusting his position by hand.

 

Phillip was acutely aware of Barnum’s hands on his shoulders. They were warm, and he wanted to bash his head into a wall for noting that, because it was strange. How painfully conscious he was of every move he made while Barnum was looking, his eagerness to please him - it was all overwhelmingly strange. His emotions tread unclear waters here. He was uncertain of how or why he was affected this way and it panicked him.

 

He took a breath, and stood where he was directed. 

 

“Are you alright? You look ill.”

 

“I’m fine - just momentarily addled.”

 

“Good, then; you see how, from there, you have full view of the stands? You can interact with the entire audience. I’ll have you stand in that spot for the majority of the show, considering you’re just beginning.” 

 

Phillip nodded, doing his best to remain composed. “And what would you have me do, standing here?”

 

“In all likelihood, you’ll introduce acts every so often - you should try to interact with the onlookers.”

 

He nodded again. “Okay - is there anything else I need to learn?”

 

“Nothing terribly pressing. Most of what you need to know you can only learn by experience.” Barnum smiled when he said this, like he was looking forward to Phillip’s participation in the show. 

 

“We have another show today - would you care to stay and watch? You can perform tomorrow, but I think it best for you to see the show through again before you do - understand the order of the routines and- and watch what I do, because what you’ll be undertaking is going to be very similar.”

 

Phillip’s heart quickened again at the idea of being asked to watch him specifically - would he be looking out for him as well? He chased the thought away nearly as soon as it entered his mind, once more shaken by his persistent captivation. 

 

“Of course, I’d love to stay.” He said this without thinking - it was instant, nearly, due to his desire to please and also, because he didn’t really think he’d been given a choice. Barnum had said he’d like Phillip to see the show again before coming aboard - to see _him_ perform again before he joined him in the ring. Immediately he chastised himself - the offer wasn’t given out of a desire for him to see him perform again, but rather, so he could learn what he was to do in the ring. It did him no good, Phillip thought, to be unreasonably hopeful.

 

What was he hoping for, though?

 

* * *

 

The show was just as breathtaking the second time as it was the first - he was dazzled by the lights, and each act was spectacular. As Phillip returned home, he thought back to how enthusiastically the crowd embraced the strangeness of the spectacle. Would they accommodate it so heartily should they see one of the performers on the street? He frowned. It was unlikely; he was struck by the hypocrisy of it all.

 

He wandered to his room in preparation to write - not plays, no; that was never his passion, though he did enjoy composing them. He wrote stories and poems to entertain himself, and he had since he was young - that was the very thing that had, ironically, spurred his career as a playwright. Upon sitting down, however, he found himself uninspired. His mind kept wandering back to the circus - specifically, Barnum. 

 

He was bewildered by his enthrallment with his new employer. These emotions, or even anything like them, were completely foreign to him - even girls whom he’d toyed with before had never made him so breathless.

 

And with that, Phillip admitted something to himself: he compared Barnum to other girls he’d romanced. He admitted Barnum made him _breathless_.

 

This admission alarmed him less than he thought it would. He was uncertain as to what he should do with this information, but he wasn’t hysterical in the face of it.

 

He was more afraid of the actual idea that he was attracted to a man; he had heard of relations between members of the same sex before, but never in a positive light, and never as if it was natural. Was he an oddity in and of himself, truly fit for the circus?

 

And what of Barnum? He grimaced, even as his heart fluttered at the thought of him. It was highly unlikely that his feelings were mutual, which led him to another difficulty: how was he to face him again? 

 

Phillip leaned forward, his head in his hands. Being an outcast, he was sure he could handle. Rejection was far more daunting. But even being an outcast was an unenjoyable notion - he had further to fall, even, than he had when he joined the circus. 

 

Deciding any attempt at writing would be futile, he prepared for sleep. Laying down, he reflected on how very strange his life had become. He shut his eyes, and lapsed into repose.

 

(your fever dream, can’t you see it getting closer?)

(just surrender ‘cause you feel the feeling taking over)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, looking at two characters that are literally in a canon romantic relationship: ah yes best bromance of 2018
> 
> in all seriousness, though, i also ship carwheeler so i'll probably write a oneshot for them after i finish this!
> 
> (comments and kudos make my day!)

(i’m trying to hold my breath)

(let it stay this way, can’t let this moment end)

  
  


Phillip woke with a start the next day, feeling as if he was falling. He lay there momentarily, dazed with sleep, before the events from last night rushed back to the forefront of his mind. 

 

He was enamoured with a man. Moreover, said man was his employer, and he was expected to arrive at the circus in three hours to perform with him.

 

He released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He had to face Barnum again, and not act a fool. He was unsure of his capability to accomplish even that - he could hardly compose himself when Barnum merely touched him, how was he to keep calm spending all hours of the day around him?

 

Beyond that, Phillip was still at war with himself - he’d made an ill-advised decision, joining the circus troupe - had he never done that, he could still be deluded into believing he would find a wife, live as his parents had. He would be considered an abomination in the circles he used to walk. Those who considered him abhorrent may well be correct, anyways.

 

But did he really want to live as his parents had? No - he had never wanted to be so stifling and self-important - but what other options did he have? What did he want? The answer came to him nigh immediately; he wanted Barnum to be fond of him. But what were the chances? He laughed, a barking, humourless sound. 

 

Anxiety filled him as he thought out the possibilities; on the miniscule chance that Barnum did return his affections - he grimaced. Best not entertain senseless daydreams. Either way, were anyone to find out, he’d be exiled from society. His reputation, something he’d spent his whole life building, would be befouled.

 

It’s not as if you can run away from your life to join the circus when the reason you’re running away is that you’re in love with the ringleader.

 

He had wasted an hour sitting in bed, deliberating, which left only two hours to prepare himself and leave. An ample amount of time to prepare, but still so very short in the grand scheme of things. His heartbeat quickened, once again anxious about what the day would bring. 

 

Gathering himself, he prepared to leave.

 

* * *

 

Phillip arrived to the theatre with just moments to spare. Upon entry, he made his way backstage - there wasn’t a show scheduled for another hour and a half, but he was supposed to arrive in time to rehearse. Barnum was talking with a couple performers. As Phillip caught sight of him, his breath caught in his throat.

 

Barnum turned his head to survey the gathered cast just in time to catch Phillip staring at him - Phillip cringed, even as he was waved over.

 

When he failed to respond, Barnum called him. “Carlyle!”

 

He approached slowly - he didn’t want to appear over eager, nor did he have any desire to be impolite. He was uncertain how to interact with Barnum now - not that he was ever confident in his interactions with him before.

 

Barnum thrust a bright red and gold bundle into Phillip’s arms. “A costume, for today’s show.”

 

“I- thank you,” Phillip mumbled. He could feel his face heating up, ever so slightly. This was frustrating - he was sure he should be able to control himself better than this. 

 

“You’re welcome - I took the liberty of estimating your measurements to have it made. Are you ready?”

 

Phillip snorted. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

 

“Alright. The first act is Anna Swan - the giantess. I’ll welcome the crowd and introduce her. The next act is the aerialists. You should announce them as their routine begins. We can alternate; the rest of the acts scheduled for this show are Charles, Lettie and the albino twins, and the tattooed man. Also,” here he paused and smirked, “if you feel up to it, you can close the show.”

 

Phillip nodded. “I believe I can do that.”

 

He felt exposed, as if through each word he spoke revealed his emotions further. It was impossible, he knew, to read someone’s thoughts, but he was afraid his face communicated them clear as day.

 

“Wonderful - go change, we rehearse in ten minutes.”

__

* * *

 

The rehearsal went well - he was still doubtful of his ability to entertain a crowd, but he was confident that he could announce the acts capably. It now was forty minutes till showtime, and Phillip found himself sitting on a crate some shadowy corner. He could watch everyone from here - the masses filed into the stands, and those who were performing gathered backstage. 

 

He was watching Barnum address the gathered performers - encouraging them to make it a good show, etcetera. He noted how he tended to focus on one person in the crowd when he spoke - probably unintentionally. And he spoke with his hands - gesticulating, sometimes wildly, to get his point across.

 

He was shaken from his reverie by a laugh. Looking up, he saw Anne standing above him.

 

“Do you even know how _obvious_  you are?” She knelt down before him, lowering her voice just slightly. “It’s not hard to catch you gawking.”

 

“What do you mean?” After a fleeting moment of shock, he’d recomposed himself - unconfident as he was in his deceit, the stakes were high.

 

“Look, don’t _lie_. You’re absolutely spoony on him, anyone could see it.”

 

Phillip’s breathing quickened - of course someone knew, because of course he was that transparent. How foolish-

 

Anne’s eyes widened, seeing how panicked he became. “Calm down, I won’t tell him, why are you so-”

 

“Do you think I’m an anathema? For being fond of him?” Phillip blurted this out unthinkingly, simultaneously affirming he _was_  fond of him aloud and, for some reason, seeking approval.

 

She laughed at him. It was so strange, to his panic-addled mind, to hear her laughter. “I’m a coloured woman in a circus. I spend my days around oddities, and you,” she looked him up and down, laughter still sparkling in her eyes, “are not one. It’s no different from a coloured person and a white person having relations, and frankly, Mr. Carlyle, I find it very strange that people consider some varieties of love illicit.” Her expression became downcast for a moment. “Of course, I understand social pressures…”

 

Phillip’s pale face regained a bit of it’s colour. “An interesting point of view to hold.”

 

“You could say I have an open mind.”

 

“And what will you do with this information? That is, my…” Phillip hesitated to give voice to his emotions again, even with his voice lowered.

 

“Oh, I’ll keep my mouth shut. But I think you should tell him.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Not in a thousand years, Anne. I don’t know how I would handle myself in the face of his refusal.”

 

“You’re entitled to your own choices but,” she looked at him honestly, “you may be surprised.”

 

With that, she smiled and sauntered away to rejoin her brother in the crowd.

 

What on Earth did she mean by, ‘you may be surprised’? She’d known Barnum longer than him - did she know something he didn’t? The two didn’t seem particularly close; it was doubtful that she was privy to his secrets. Then again, he had just spilled what he believed to be his most private matter. Though he knew it shouldn’t, her statement warmed his chest with hope.

 

* * *

 

 

The show was nearly over - he ran into some difficulty announcing the acts, stumbling over his speech, but the crowd ate it up, laughing at his mistakes. In his defense, he was… distracted. Now, it was his big moment: he was to close the show.

 

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, that was the last act we had to offer you tonight. We’re terribly sorry to see you go. Did you enjoy the display?” He paused, and the crowd roared. “Was it as spectacular as you’d hoped? Electrifying?” The crowd roared again. “Now, if you would, the exit is to your right - try not to trample anyone. Goodnight folks!” He was rather satisfied with that declaration - not once did he stutter, and he was rather eloquent too, if he did say so himself. He smiled.

 

He walked backwards into the forming line of performers - it was time for a final acknowledgement of the cast. The audience was still rapt - they would be until the ring was clear of people. The person next to him took his hand and raised it above their heads. Phillip turned his head slightly to see who it was, and he’d swear his heart stopped beating.

 

Phineas Taylor Barnum was holding Phillip Carlyle’s hand and the whole _world_ stopped.

 

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. Even so, his heart was jammed in his throat. The crowd began filing out, and the line dispersed, but for a second - for a second afterwards, Barnum still held his hand.

 

He wasn’t sure what to make of that, except that it made him light-headed.

 

As the made their way out of the ring and towards the exit, Barnum turned to him. “That was a good show - you did well, considering it was your first time in the ring.”

 

Phillip swallowed. “Thank you. I know I made some mistakes here and there, but-”

 

“Mistakes are to be expected. You still did well.” He smiled.

 

Philip smiled back. “I look forward to doing it again tomorrow.”

 

“And I look forward to seeing you improve. Could I interest you in a drink? Tomorrow night?”

 

“That sounds wonderful.” Philip once again chastised himself for accepting an offer without thinking. He was almost certain, however, he would’ve accepted no matter how much thought he put into it. Any chance to spend more time with Barnum would be lovely.

 

A nagging voice in the back of his head said he was loathsome for his affection; it would never be returned no matter how long it was harboured. He sagged under it’s weight, but he didn’t buckle.

 

“Yes, alright,” Barnum said as they exited the theatre, “after the show?”

 

“Very well.”

 

They parted ways, and Phillip found himself smiling.

 

(you set off a dream in me)

(getting louder, now - can you hear it echoing?)


End file.
